Safety Blanket
by Arcane Assassin
Summary: Sleepless nights come in all shapes and sizes...


Given the lateness of the hour it was not totally unexpected that the Normandy's lower decks would be virtually abandoned. Neither was it totally unexpected that a single member of the crew would insist on remaining awake to compile mission reports and plans, deeming sleep totally unnecessary; down time was a non-existent concept for the ever-efficient Cerberus Officer.

However, at present that was of no real concern – the real concern was that, granted the report said officer had received from EDI three hours ago, there should have been no descending traffic from the Captain's cabin, and yet the tell-tale hiss of the elevator doors sliding open echoed through the mess. But even then, the most concerning fact about the unexpected elevator traffic was the soft padding of unshod footsteps cautiously, almost hesitantly, tracking their way to the XO's door.

Miranda didn't need to look up from the multitude of datapads that littered her desk to know who her late night visitor was; only one person ever had the gall to enter her office, and at present Miranda was in no mood to deal with their childish antics.

Patiently scrolling through her latest mission report to the Illusive Man, she waited for the Commander to enter, knowing that, no doubt, something catastrophic event had occurred on the floors above, forcing the incorrigible marine to inflict her with yet another migraine.

Several minute passed, and finally the usually stoic officer began to feel some semblance of concern. She frowned at the datapad in her hand, having long since stopped actually reading its contents the moment those footsteps had halted outside her door. Raising her eyes to redirect her glare at the automatic door that led to her office, she silently cursed the pest outside.

_How can someone so bloody small be such a big pain in my arse?!_

Growling quietly to herself, she threw the datapad down, calling out to EDI,

"EDI, please ask the Commander if she actually wishes to enter and discuss something with me, or if she would prefer to stand outside my door for the rest of the night?"

"Of course, Operative Lawson."

Folding her arms across her chest, the Cerberus operative continued to glare at the door, fingers tapping out an impatient rhythm on her arm, she huffed in exasperation before pushing away from the desk, heels clacking harshly on the floor as she stormed towards the door, patience having finally worn out. Slapping the door control, she drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself before informing her Commanding Officer about her intense displeasure at being interrupted from her work.

"Shepard-"

All irritation left in an instant, replaced by surprise at the sight that greeted her; no cocky grin, no immaculately dressed, perfectly presentable Commander, just a slight figure dressed in loose pyjamas, obviously way too large for her, making her seem even smaller than she actually was, hands and feet virtually invisible in the swimming volumes of cloth, desperately clutching a pillow to her chest.

Toffee brown hair hung messily around her face, only partially concealing the vivid blush that coloured her entire neck and cheeks. She looked like a tiny child, not the most famous figure in the galaxy, the great hero of the Citadel, the top of her head not even reaching Miranda's shoulders, in fact, the Cerberus officer was certain she could tuck the younger woman safely under her chin with plenty of room to spare.

Realising that she had been staring for some time now, she hurriedly stepped aside allowing Shepard access into her room.

Surprisingly the Commander didn't say a word as she shuffled past her XO, not stopping at the desk as she usually did, instead continuing into the deeper recesses of the room, before promptly climbing into Miranda's bed, settling herself beneath the covers, still clutching that pillow with surprising ferocity.

Blinking in surprise, the now seriously concerned second-in-command swiftly snapped her jaw shut, before following her CO into her bedroom, absentmindedly locking her office door behind her.

"Shepard?" She enquired cautiously as she stopped at the foot of her bed, somehow feeling as if _she_ was the one invading the Commander's personal space and not visa versa.

_Well this is unexpected…_ she mused quietly to herself, raking her intense gaze over Shepard's prone form trying to discern the cause of such erratic behaviour.

Unsurprisingly, Shepard didn't acknowledge her Second's quiet query, instead leaving her gaze focused on the foot of the bed.

Stepping closer, the Cerberus operative stopped herself from reaching out to the Commander, unsure of what to do with the unexpected presence in her bed; she was thoroughly ill-equipped to deal with this, whatever _this_ was.

Moody, she could deal with. Childish, small doses only. Arrogant, obnoxious and infuriatingly self-righteous? No problem. Empty and, well… something, not so much.

Watching the Commander closely, Miranda felt her mind begin to wander, her eyes tracing lazily across the silent figure before her.

Something about those small fingers clutching at the white fabric made the indomitable Commander seem so fragile, the slightly hunched back as she leaned forward into the pillow's embrace was oddly endearing. The way the lower half of her face was hidden by the bulging mass clutched in her arms really accentuated how baby-faced the Commander actually was.

In fact, now that Miranda got a closer look at her, the Commander was actually very… cute.

You know… in a baby animal kind of way… not a real, physical attraction way… that made her cheeks heat up and her heat rate increase ever so slightly…

Or maybe it was just the lighting in here…

After several moments of uninterrupted ogling, Miranda was forced back into reality as a very measured breath escaped from the Commander, who duly raised her chocolate coloured orbs to stare into steel blue.

Pink lips parted as if to speak, only to be shut firmly once more, as the normally articulate spokeswoman found herself unable to say anything to the woman whose bed she had since commandeered.

Miranda recovered first, having firmly put any thoughts of possibly attraction to the tiny creature out of her mind, "I take it you intend on staying here tonight?" she questioned quite unnecessarily, as any blind fool would have noticed that Shepard had already made herself quite comfortable on _her_ side of the bed.

Blushing furiously, Shepard buried her face in her pillow, giving a slight nod, the only acknowledgement she could provide in her current… state.

Sighing to herself, Miranda pulled away from the bed, realising that she would be sleeping at her desk… again.

"Well then, don't mind me…" She grumbled quietly under her breath as she moved back to her desk, hoping to lose herself in her work once more.

_Maybe I'll be able to get some sleep once she leaves…_

A week later the Cerberus officer had since stopped being surprised by the Commander's presence in her bed. Every night, at the exact same time, Shepard would appear at her door, walk in as if she owned the place, and settle herself on what had previously been Miranda's side of the bed, only to the next morning, without fail, having disappeared completely, no doubt returned to her own room without alerting her XO.

To say that she was not concerned about her CO would be doing her a disservice, but Miranda was at a loss as to how to broach the subject of the Commander's apparent attachment to what had formerly been her room on the original Normandy.

But after several sleepless nights and awkward positioning behind at her desk, her normally icy demeanour had soured into outright hostility aimed at anyone who dared approach her.

Even Jacob was deigning to steer clear of her when she entered the CIC after witnessing a particularly callous exchange between Kelly and Miranda; the latter having reduced the Yeoman to a snivelling wreak with a thorough dressing down about her incompetence and inability to attend to her duties properly.

Suffice it to say the atmosphere in the Normandy was becoming rather strained, with only the Commander seemingly oblivious to the frayed nerves of the crewmen, and in a much cheerier mood than she had been since she set foot on the ship.

So that night when Shepard made her way into the Cerberus officer's room, Miranda decided that enough was enough - she was stiff, sore and tired, and she wanted her bed back! Taking a deep breath as the door whizzed open, regular as clockwork, she steeled her nerves for what she was about to do.

"Shepard-"

Only to feel a small hand clutch at the back of her neck dragging her, chair and all, into the small enclosure that held her bed. With a soft thump, the chair collided with the bed, and Shepard, looking surprisingly regal in her oversized pyjamas, her favourite pillow clutched firmly in one hand, staring at her. Hard.

"Get in." Her tone leaving no room for argument; it was her Commander voice, one that the Cerberus loyalist never thought she would hear during these unique encounters. Apparently she had been wrong.

Doing as she was bid, Miranda climbed into the bed, being sure to settle on the other side, knowing that she had completely lost all ownership of _her_ side of the bed. Securely seated, she watched as Shepard pulled back the covers, fluffed her pillow up, clambered in, looking incredibly childlike all the while, and snuggled into the small indentation her presence had left in the mattress.

Dragging Miranda down to her level, wrapping both arms around her to hold her in place, the Cerberus operative raised a single delicate eyebrow at the gesture but said nothing.

"Not a word to anyone." Shepard grumbled against her shoulder, moving their legs into a more comfortable position, Miranda struggling not laugh at how the Commanders feet just reached halfway down her calves.

Relaxing into the embrace, the Normandy's XO tried to remember the last time someone had simply _held_ her; nothing came to mind, but she found that the small bundle of warmth clutching to her was oddly soothing.

"Aye, aye, Commander." She murmured into those soft toffee coloured locks, lightly threading her fingers through them, inhaling the scent that was simply _Shepard_. With a gentle smile adorning her face she fell into the most restful sleep she had had in years.


End file.
